Something Catchy
by maritinkerbell
Summary: Suze goes to NY to visit Gina. Meanwhile, funny things start to happen back home... Set after Twilight. Chapter 6 done. Please R&R!
1. Chapter 1: i luv u

Working Title

**Setup: So, Twilight ends at the start of Winter break, right? Well, fast forward a couple of months, and you're at Spring Break, which is when this story takes place. Now, if you remember correctly, last year Gina came to visit over break (Reunion, book 3) so this year, the tables are reversed, and Suze is flying to New York (Thursday) to visit Gina. Then stuff happens, there's a climax, the conflict resolves, and the story ends.**

Chapter 1

There are many kinds or people who really annoy me. This includes cocky telemarketers, anyone who calls me "Susie" (except my mom), stepbrothers whose sole purpose of existence is to get me in trouble, and flight attendants who walk around like someone's just stuffed a can of Campbell's Soup up their butt.

In order to avoid the middle of these annoyances for a week, I was being subjected to large doses of the last. Translation: I was leaving my three stepbrothers and going to stay with my friend Gina for the week of Spring Break, and because she lived in New York City, on the opposite side of the country from my house in Carmel, California, I had to endure a six-hour flight. However, I had to give credit to my mom and her husband Andy; they had managed to book me tickets which did not require me to get up at the crack of dawn. In fact, I got to wake up later than I would have if I had gone to school, like I was supposed to. See, in order to get me tickets at such a great time, I had to agree to fly on a Thursday. Actually, I would have been willing to do this even if the tickets had cost the same. Anything to get me out of Math Besides, it's not like I'm missing anything. No teacher would be crazy enough to think that he could actually get kids to learn anything when it was two days before a vacation.

In spite of the fact that my stepbrothers Dopey and Sleepy (aka Brad and Jake) were going to gain exactly nothing from attending class, Andy made them go to school on Thursday anyway. He did, however, permit the third step-year old David (or Doc, as I like to call him) to accompany me to the airport. This was because David is a genius. No, seriously. He's who I go to if I need help on homework, and I'm three grades ahead of him.

When he heard that Doc got to miss a whole day of school just so he could say goodbye to me, Dopey immediately pleaded to be allowed see me off, too. I would have been touched, but I knew that he only wanted to miss a day of school. Dopey was actually glad to be rid of me for a week, and I must say, the feeling was mutual. Doc is the only one of my stepbrothers who I allow people to mistake for a brother. If anyone referres to Sleepy or Dopey as my "brother", I can't help but correct them.

When I got to the point of the airport beyond which only "persons with a valid boarding pass" could enter, I found that I was actually quite sad to be leaving my family behind. My mother, of course, went completely gaga and made a huge scene. "My baby is leaving me" she kept repeating (needless to say, at age seventeen, it is quite embarrassing when my mother calls me her "baby"). Andy, who my mom married after my dad died, clapped my on the shoulder and instructed me to "look after yourself, kid". But David, unlike the adults, did something which caught me completely off guard. He threw his arms around my neck and whispered into my ear "I love you, Suze."

Simple enough, right? I mean, our parents were married, and we'd been living under the same roof for over a year. There had to have been some "I love you's" going around, right? Wrong. Let's just say that I'm not exactly the touchy-feely type.

I know how I should have responded. I should have just told David that I love him, too. I should have given him an extra squeeze, and maybe patted his curly red hair a bit. I should have told him how adorable he looked, with his pale skin paler than usual, contrasting with the freckles that dotted his face. It was obvious that he wanted to say this before I left, just in case my plane crashed, or I got caught in a late snowstorm and was stranded in New York, or something.

Of course, because I'm so brilliant with words, all I could think to say was "Uh, thanks" as I awkwardly dumped out my loose change so that I could pass through the metal detector. Yeah, I know. Nice going, Suze. Hey, give me a break, will you? Until I moved out to California, I never had siblings. I never even had friends, except Gina.

Gina, who, as I stepped off of the plane, shivering from the freezing temperature which airports are always set to, rushed up to me and almost knocked me over with a gigantic hug. My spine was getting seriously crushed, but I didn't care. I hadn't seen Gina in a whole year. My backbone could take it.


	2. The chapter that comes after chapter 1

Chapter 2

"Oh my god. We are going to have such an awesome time, Simon." Gina was apparently as glad to see me as I was to see her. "This week is going to kick ASS! There's this great party Saturday night at this girl Chelsea's house. Oh, and you're coming with me on a double date tomorrow night. I have that day off of school, but not next week. It totally su—"

Gina was talking so fast that it took me this long before I could interrupt her. "Did you say _date_?" I asked accusingly.

"Yes," Gina replied innocently, "But don't worry. I'll be there the whole time…unless the date gets _really _hot, if you know what I mean."

"No way. No frikkin' way."

"Oh my god, Simon. Just chill. I know you have guy issues, but can you just get over them for one night? That's all I ask."

"I do not have 'guy issues.'" I glared at Gina. "I have a boyfriend."

"Seriously?" Gina stared at me disbelievingly. This was a little insulting, but then, back when I lived in New York, I had never even been asked out, let alone had a boyfriend.

"Yes, seriously. Which is why there is no way in hell that you are getting me to go on a date with you tomorrow night."

"Come on," Gina said enticingly. "What your man doesn't know won't hurt him."

I seriously doubted that I would be able to keep this from Jesse. He had an uncanny knack for finding out things that I didn't want him to know, and the last time I lied to him, he ended up putting someone else in the hospital. But despite all this, Gina still wanted me to accompany her, which is why I ended up standing with her inside of a fancy Italian restaurant, looking for our dates, on my first Friday back in NYC since I moved. In my own defense, I would like to point out that some serious blackmail had been threatened.

"There they are," Gina said, leading me over to a pair of boys who were lolling around uncomfortably. "Guys, this is my friend Susannah Simon. Suze, this is my date, Joey, and his friend…"

"Damien. Pleased to meet you." Damien had glaring orange hair, a wide smile, and a stud towards the top of one of his ears. Jeez. The last guy I knew who had an ear pierced was my seventh grade math teacher.

Damien led me over to our table (it was actually two tables pushed together) and held out my chair for me as I sat down. He was obviously trying to play the romantic, chivalrous type. I sniffed. As if anyone could be more romantic and chivalrous than Jesse. I mean, Jesse was practically born before rudeness was invented, and he was definitely the most romantic guy I had ever met. Who else would brave my mom, dad, stepdad, stepbrothers, the principal of my school, and Max, the family dog, just so that he could be with me? Damien had it easy. Damien had it waay easy. All Damien had to do was find me at the restaurant. The only person in my life who he had to meet was Gina, and most guys would consider meeting her a privilege. Joey sure did.

Damien and Joey had brought us to this fancy little Italian place with dim lighting and a space for dancing to the slow, quiet piano instrumental being played by a man in a tux. I looked around and saw that there were no tables set for more than two; this was clearly a restaurant meant for couples.

"Man, am I starving," Joey complained, as he plopped into his chair unceremoniously.

"Me too," responded my date. "I could eat _anything_." As if to illustrate this point, Damien plucked the single rose from the narrow vase in the center of our tables, stuffed half of the stem into his mouth, and pretended to eat it. Then suddenly he stopped, looked up at me, and with the rose clenched in his teeth, asked "Care to dance?"

I was fully prepared to refuse this offer when I felt a sharp pain in my shin. I glanced up to see Gina staring at me, giving me obnoxious signals with her eyebrows. I rolled my eyes at her, but she made a threatening little jerk with her head, as if to say "I am so going to kill you if you ruin this date for me, Simon."

I gave up this incredibly confusing argument (I think I was losing), looked at Damien, and said "Okay." At least dancing with him would put Gina out of earshot, so I could warn him that if he tried anything with me, I was fully prepared to feed him the old knuckle sandwich.

Damien led me out onto the dance floor and slipped his hands around my hips, a little hesitantly, as if he wasn't completely comfortable with the situation. His touch felt strange; Jesse always held the narrowest portion of my waist when we danced. I set my arms on Damien's shoulders and opened my mouth to tell him that this relationship was definitely not going to work out. But Damien beat me to it.

"Susannah," he said, only his voice didn't sound angry, the way my mom's does when she uses my full name, or affectionate, the way Jesse's does, or even patronizing, like Father Dom. Damien just sounded as though he didn't really know me well enough to use my nickname comfortably. Come to think of it, he didn't sound very comfortable with Susannah either. I guess it was kind of an awkward situation.

"You seem like a really nice girl," he began. God. Was he breaking up with me, before we'd even gone out? "And I like you. But I don't want to lead you on." He _was_ breaking up with me. "You see, this relationship…" What relationship? "It can't really go anywhere." No shit, Sherlock. We live on opposite sides of the country. Oh, and did I mention that I have a boyfriend?

"Um, what exactly are you getting at here?" Okay, I admit it. I was kind of ticked off. I mean, no girl likes to be dumped, especially when she was just about to dump the guy first. Not that Damien and I were actually a couple or anything. But Jesus, did I make that bad of a first impression?

"Well," Damien said, "It's just that… I'm gay."

I was totally not expecting this. I thought he was going to say something like "I'm still holding out for Halle Berry" or "my last girlfriend turned out to be an axe murderer, and I still haven't gotten over my trust issues."

"Then, what are you doing going out with girls?" I said hotly. I was still feeling a bit defensive. I mean, he could have just made this up so he wouldn't hurt my feelings or something.

"Not _girls._" Damien insisted. "Not plural. But Joey sprung this on me at the last minute, and he wouldn't let me out of it. I'm sorry." There was this look in his eyes, like he was trying to play "cute and innocent" and was testing to see if I would fall for it. I almost laughed. He looked just like David when Mom catches him tossing dirty laundry onto the floor of his bedroom.

"It's okay," I replied, smiling. "I have a boyfriend anyway."

"Then what are _you_ doing going out with _guys_?" Damien asked, obviously amused.

"Believe me, I was totally _not_ looking forward to this." I didn't like what he was insinuating. "I mean, I get back to New York for the first time in over a year, and here's Gina telling me that I've gotta go on some crappy-ass date with her even though Jesse is so not going to be happy, and I totally wouldn't have gone only Gina made me and—"

"Whoa. Slow down there, girl. Who is Jesse?"

"Jesse DeSilva. My boyfriend. Back in California." Okay, so maybe it wasn't that great of an idea to mention my significant other when I was on a date with someone else, but the guy did say that he was gay.

Damien nodded, shook his head, then nodded again, looking pained. He appeared to be trying to digest all of the information which I had inadvertently spewed at him. I guess it was too much, since he suddenly said "I have to go to the bathroom," and walked away rather rapidly.

It was as he was walking away that I noticed the man hovering over by the hostess.

I groaned inwardly. Just what I need to make this date even more of a disaster than it already was.

I had started slowly towards the man, who was clearly dead, when I saw Damien hurry by. As he passed the man, Damien grabbed him by the cuff of his shirt and dragged him to the privacy of the restroom.


	3. The chapter after that

Chapter 3

My first impulse was to run after the two. But then I realized how strange it would look if I followed my date into the men's room. So I settled for slipping back to the table and giving Gina's arm a light pinch. She looked at me questioningly, but with Joey around, I couldn't say anything.

Perhaps I should take this time to explain. I am a mediator. This means that I can see, speak to, punch, and make out with the spirits of the dead. Only, not all the dead. Just those who, for whatever reason, are sticking around on earth. Generally, this means that they have some unfinished business to take care of, which is where we mediators come in. It's our job to help the ghosts get where they are supposed to be going (Father Dominic assures me that this is either Heaven or Hell. I'm not so sure. I mean, who's to say that they don't go on to be reincarnated, or whatever?)

If you are one of those weirdoes who think seeing dead people would be "cool", I can assure you that it is not. Mediators don't get paid, even though we spend more time mediating than most people do at normal jobs. The only benefit that I can see is that sometimes we run into really hot ghosts who we accidentally bring back to life and who become our boyfriends. Well, this is _my_ only benefit. Somehow I doubt that Father Dom, Jesse, or any of the Slaters would be very interested in excruciatingly hot guy ghosts.

Before I moved to Carmel, I had never met another mediator. But Father Dominic, the principal of my new school, assured me that there had to be more. And he was right. I later met Paul and Jack Slater, two brothers who each shared what Father Dom likes to refer to as our "great gift". I hadn't seen Jack in quite a while, but Paul went to my school, and we had become friends, after learning together that messing with the past is generally not a very good idea. However, in our case, it had some not-too-bad results. We unintentionally brought Jesse, the ghost of a rancher who died in 1850, back to life. In the nineteenth century, Jesse hadn't been a mediator, but ghosts can see other ghosts, and this ability stuck with Jesse even after he became alive again.

The only other mediator I had ever met was Dr. Slaski, Paul and Jack's grandfather. Dr. Slaski had dedicated his life to learning more about mediators, or shifters, as he called us, and he was the one who warned Paul and me about the unpleasant side effects induced by time travel. So after that first incident, Paul and I decided to stick with the basic "help guide lost souls" principle, and not mess around with the shifter stuff. Father Dom was pleased.

It seemed that Carmel, California was some sort of mediator haven, while New York was devoid of people who knew about us. That is, until I told Gina. She had had some idea of what I was up to, back when I lived in New York, but I had never talked to her about it. Ironically, I ended up coming clean with her after I had moved. And now, when I had just come back for a visit, I met Damien, who was obviously another mediator. Funny how things work out, isn't it?

I spent the whole meal trying to talk to Damien about this without Joey thinking that we were both mental. Meanwhile, oblivious to the fact that I could see him, the ghost hovered next to Damien's chair, looking out of place. Finally, my break came when Joey stood up to go to the bathroom.

"Who's he?" I asked, gesturing at the ghost.

"Who's who?" replied Gina.

Damien's eyes bulged. "You can _see_ him?" he said incredulously.

"Oh. " Gina looked mildly interested. "Another ghost? Anyone I know?"

"I doubt it. Unless you habitually hang around with thirty-year-old men."

"I'm twenty-seven," the man informed me in an annoyed voice.

"Whatever," I told him, as Damien cut in.

"Will someone please tell me what's going on here?" Damien must have spoken a bit too loudly, because some of the people at neighboring tables glanced at us, looking annoyed. I suppose we were ruining their romantic evenings, or something.

"Apparently," said Gina, laughing in her seat "You and Suze here can both see some thirty-year-old dead dude who's been hanging around an Italian place looking for guidance. Interesting way to spend an afterlife."

This explanation, delivered in between bouts of giggles, served to confuse Damien more than enlighten him. The look on his face only sent Gina into fresh peals.

"Hey guys. What's up?" Joey asked, as he dropped down into his seat.

"Nothing," I replied, because Damien was too confused, and Gina was too hysterical to answer. Joey may have been hot, but he obviously wasn't the brightest crayon in the box, as he seemed to believe me. Harder to convince was Damien, who spent the next half hour staring at me and Gina, trying to decide whether or not we were telling the truth. It was clear that he had never met another mediator.


	4. Which includes a disclaimer

**Disclaimer: Yeah. The normal junk. Everything belongs to Meg, except the stuff that belongs to me.**

Chapter 4

"That was hilarious," Gina screamed, as we shut the door to her bedroom behind us. "Did you see his face? Damien was staring at you for, like, the whole meal." Gina had apparently never been taught to use her indoor voice. "And he was _gay_. Your love life really is cursed." This last sentence sounded very serious, until Gina let out this totally evil cackle. "Only you, Simon. Only you would end up on a date with some guy who is not only another mediator, but can't even like you because of his sexual orientation."

"It's a good thing he's gay," I said darkly. "Otherwise Jesse would be totally pissed. I'm gonna have a hard time explaining this to him as it is."

"I don't get it." Gina looked at me curiously, pausing while searching under her bed for her pajamas. "Why does he have to know? It's not like you have a hard time lying to anyone else." I guess Gina was still bitter that it had taken me so long to tell her about the whole mediator thing.

"It's not that I feel _bad_ about lying to Jesse," I replied. "It's just that he always knows. I think the whole ghost thing got to him." I had filled Gina in about Jesse's ghost-to-human transition. Not that she really understood it. Hell, even I didn't get it.

"Can ghosts tell when people are B.S.-ing?" Gina asked me. She had found a pair of black boy-shorts and was now rummaging inside her pillow case. I opened my suitcase to search for my own nightclothes.

"Not necessarily," I said, in answer to her question. "But they get these weird senses…they're sort of like gut instincts, only magnified. And more often."

Gina thought for a second. "Weird," She said to me. Then, "Aha!" She triumphantly held up a tiny little tank top which had been stuffed into one of her sneakers. My best friend was not exactly the most organized person in the universe. "Turn around," Gina ordered me.

"Why?" I asked.

Gina rolled her eyes. "Well, if you really want to see me change, fine." She held up the top and shorts, shaking them at me playfully. I turned and went back to looking for something that I could sleep in. Unfortunately, my load seemed to consist of nothing but socks. Knee highs, ankle socks, cutesy little white socks with bows on them. I didn't even know that I owned socks like that. Either I had gone temporarily insane while packing, or someone was playing jokes on me, and I had a very shrewd idea who.

My suspicions were confirmed when Gina suddenly reached over and grabbed something from my bag. "_What_ is _that_?" she asked me, holding something up by a tiny pinch of cloth. I inspected it cautiously. It was the shirt that Dopey liked to wear when he was lifting weights, and consequently, it smelled like sweat. It _really_ smelled like sweat.

I had opened my mouth to tell G that one, or possibly all, of my stepbrothers had decided that it would be funny to deprive me of anything decent to wear, when the phone rang. "I'll get it," Gina yelled, then reached over and yanked her extension off the receiver. "Hello?"

As she was saying this, Gina was wriggling into the shorts that she had found under her bed. "Yes," she said. "Uh-huh…Okay, sure." She gave the pants one last tug, so that they covered all of her purple-on-orange polka dot panties. "Suze, it's for you." She held out the phone.

_Oh good_, I thought. _A chance to touch base with sanity. Or, at least, with people_ _who don't wear orange_ _underwear_. "Hi, Suze!" said a familiar voice_. On second_ _thought, maybe not._

"Hello, Kelly," I replied wearily. I was hoping it would be Jesse, calling to see how my flight went, or Cee Cee, yammering on about her date with Adam, or even Dopey, so that I could yell at him for messing with my luggage. Kelly Prescott— junior class president, girlfriend of Paul Slater, and wanna-be Barbie― was not exactly on my top ten list of people to talk to.

"Suze," Kelly squealed, managing to sound excited and disgusted at the same time. "Oh my god. How was your flight? How is New York? How is Gina? Oh my god. Are you guys totally having a blast? Isn't it cool how you got to miss school? Oh my god. Suze!"

Yup. Definitely Kelly Prescott. Too bad. I was hoping that I had temporarily suffered from hearing problems and had only imagined that she was talking to me.

"Anyway," Kelly went on, not waiting for me to respond to her questions. "I was calling because…well, I went out with Paul tonight." I assumed as much. Kelly and Paul went on a date every Friday. A lot of other days too. "And he was acting, well, strange. I don't know why. I mean one minute, we were making out, and he seemed totally into it." Kelly began to gush, words piling up like spam in my e-mail account. "Like, we were watching this movie, right? Only it was totally boring. I don't even remember what it was. So I was all like, 'Want to just leave?' And Paul goes 'Hey, we paid for those tickets, right? Might as well make the most of it.' Which is really true. I mean, the movie was like, crap, and the theater was almost as bad. It smelled like grease, and the popcorn was disgusting. It was, like, covered in butter. I would probably gain five pounds by eating one handful. Anyway, he leaned over to kiss me, only he hit the armrest, you know, those stupid ones they put between seats with the place for you to put your drink? So, I pushed the arm-thing up, and I leaned in, and our lips touched, and it was really good, you know? Paul is like, the best kisser. And, at first, it was, like shallow," just like you Kelly, "but then, it kind of deepened. Only, it wasn't like either of us was doing it. It was, like, what's that word? You know…oh yeah. Mutual. It was totally mutual. It tasted really good, too. Sort of like, I don't know, piña coladas or something. And then, Paul kind of ran his hands up my back. I was wearing this totally adorable little white halter top, with this little twist in the front that looked really elegant. So anyway, then I put my hands on his thighs—"

It was at this point that I set the phone down on Gina's desk. We could still hear a high pitched whistle coming from it, as Kelly yammered on about her evening, completely oblivious to the fact that no one was listening. I breathed deeply, counted slowly to fifteen, then picked the phone back up in time to hear "—and I think he tried to undo my bra strap, except I totally wasn't wearing one. I mean, it was a _white_ _halter top_, and the only strapless bra that I own is pink, which would totally clash with my shoes."

"Kelly," I interrupted. "Could we get to the point please? Much though I enjoy hearing about your evening, I have other things to attend to." Like murdering my stepbrother.

"Oh, right, Suze." Kelly hadn't understood my sarcasm. "Well, in the middle of all this, Paul suddenly breaks off, staring into space. Like, there was nothing there. Well, I mean, there was air and floor and stuff. But why would he be looking at that? So then, he goes, 'I have to go to the bathroom," and disappears for a really long time. And when he gets back, he just wants to drop me off at home right away. He was totally distracted the whole ride. And Suze, I don't know what I did wrong. You've got to help me. I mean, you're friends with Paul, right? He talks to you. You've got to figure out what went wrong." Yes. Paul and I were friends now, to some extent. But we mostly talked about mediation, or school. Never our love lives. This was partly because it was too weird for him, as he used to have this huge crush on me, and partly because the thought of him and Kelly Prescott making out made me want to puke almost as much as coming home from school to see that the dog has gotten into my closet.

"Okay, Kelly. I'll talk to him." Well, what could I say? She sounded so upset. Besides, I was pretty sure that Paul's "strange behavior" had been caused by the appearance of a ghost. Hadn't Damien behaved in almost exactly the same way when he saw one? Ghosts can totally screw up your dates, and even Paul deserved some help cleaning up the mess.

"You'll do that? Oh, thank you Suze. I just don't want Paulie to be mad at me." Paulie? Eeeeeeewwwww.

I finally got Kelly off my back, after promising to call Paul right away. It was not a conversation I was really looking forward to having, but anything beat listening to Kelly. At least Paul had a sense of humor.

I dialed Paul's phone number carefully, so I was very surprised when the voice that answered said "No, I don't want any damn Girl Scout cookies" in a heavy Korean accent. I hung up, confused.

"Did you dial the area code?" Gina asked me, smiling. Oh. Right. Area code.

"According to my information, your tongue tastes like alcoholic pineapple. Anything to say to this?" Gina, who didn't know who I was talking to, cracked up completely.

"Where on earth did you get that from, Suze?" Paul sounded truly curious.I grunted. "Your girlfriend has just forced me to listen to every detail of her date with you tonight. Ghost problems?"

"Yeah," replied Paul, sounding disconcerted. "Kelly actually called you? I mean, you two aren't exactly the best of friends."

"Well, who else was she going to cry to? Correy?" I named one of Paul's jock friends, a big burly guy who never talked. "Somehow, I doubt he'd be very sympathetic to Kelly's rambling. At least I'm a girl."

Paul thought about this for a few seconds. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense. Kelly knows we hang out a lot."

"Sooooo….." I prompted. Who was the ghost? "What happened?"

"Well, Kelly and I went to see this movie, right? And as we were watching it, I saw this ghost. She was watching the movie too." At this point, I gave up trying to find anything wearable in my own laundry and started raiding Gina's dresser. "So, I excused myself, and I went to talk to her. She seemed pretty contemporary; she was wearing jeans and a t-shirt. I don't know how she died, but she gave me a number and asked me to tell her sister that she loves her. I wanted to get it over with fast, so I took Kelly home. End of story."

I snorted. Paul's version of events was much more G-rated than Kelly's. "What was your ghost friend's name?" I asked.

"Julianna. Why?"

"She sounds like a ghost I mediated about a week ago. She wanted me to call some number and say the same thing. But her name was Beth." Beth's sister had not really believed me, but Beth had moved on anyway. Or, at least, I never saw her again. Paul seemed a lot more interested in this information than I was. If Beth didn't need my help anymore, then I wasn't going to go out of my way to give it to her.

"What did Beth look like?" Paul asked me. I couldn't answer him right away because I had placed my hand over the mouthpiece in order to hiss "Find me some pajamas, will you G?"

"Light brown hair, hazel eyes, dimples, about twenty-five."

"Not very descriptive, are we Suze? That could be almost anyone."

"Well, I'm sorry, but that's all I've got. And I should probably go, so I can find something to wear in this _disaster zone_." I raised my voice for the last bit, so Gina would hear me. But it wasn't really necessary, since she was listening to my call anyway. Growing up with a house full of brothers, the words "personal space" meant nothing to Gina.

"Bye," said Paul, sounding a little sad to have to stop talking, as though I was slightly more interesting than M-TV. "Oh, and Suze?"

"What, Paul?"

"Thanks. For telling me about Kelly. I know you don't like getting mixed up between us, but understanding how she's feeling will go a long way toward making things right between us."

This thank-you embarrassed me quite a bit. "You're my friend. Besides, I told Kelly that I would call you. I didn't want to break my promise."

As I hung up on Paul, something soft hit my face. Gina giggled, and I saw that she had thrown her P.E. uniform at me. I didn't really want to sleep in it, but hey. Beggars can't be choosers.

**A/N: Wow. That was a really long chapter. Especially considering that not that much stuff happens in it. But, whatever. Hope you guys liked it. If you did, recommend it to your friends. If you didn't, recommend it to your enemies. (Yah, I didn't make that up.) Just REVIEW! Pleasey pleasey please? With a cherry on top? And whipped cream, and fudge sauce and cookie dough pieces?**

**Nikki007: Jesse is still alive. And I'll put him in soon, I promise. I just needed to cover some of the NY stuff, but I'll talk about the west coast next chapter.**

**Charcoal Hearts: yeah, this chapter doesn't end with a cliffhanger either. But the West-coast mystery is starting to unravel. Muahahaa (evil cackle).**

**P.S.: What is Gina's last name? I really need to know. Please, don't make me have to invent a name and end up with something like "Gina Smith." **


	5. i luv u 2

**A/N: Yay! I remembered Gina's last name! I'm so proud of myself.**

Chapter 5

Needless to say, I did not sleep very well Friday night. It took me quite a while to get the image of Paul and Kelly kissing out of my head. Then, I kept thinking about Damien, the newest member of our mediator family, and his ghostly friend Dylan (the one who crashed our "date"). To top it all off, in the middle of the night, I was struck with the realization that my stepbrothers might have deprived me of underwear. I had to get up, turn on the light (Gina, most vocal sleeper ever, rolled over and murmured "Nos cool i sauray"), and dig through my suitcase before I was able to relax. My suitcase, however, provided another distraction from sleep: a note, reading:

_"Hey, Suze._

_Like what we packed for you? Sorry, but the only way we could make sure you'll come home is to keep all your clothes. Don't be too pissed._

_Jake, Brad, and David"_

I was pretty sure that Jake was the one who actually wrote the note: it was too neat to be by Dopey, and David's writing was compact. These three sentences took half a page in Sleepy's round, wide, sprawling handwriting.

* * *

I must have fallen asleep eventually, because I woke up abruptly on Saturday when Gina's mom pulled open the curtains in Gina's bedroom. From the glare which invaded our formerly dark room, I guessed that it was almost noon. 

Gina groaned and pulled a pillow over her head. Even though I was the one who was used to a clock three hours behind, Gina still slept later. Her idea of a normal weekend schedule was to sleep until around four, then party the night away. No, she's not a vampire. I mean, who ever heard of a vampire with orange hair?

"Suze, you have a call," Mrs. Augustin whispered to me.

Gina threw her mother a very dirty look. ""Whatdi you neea wakus both ufor?"

I heard a light laugh, like a tinkle from one of those wind chimes that old people are always hanging up on their front porches. "It's about time for you to be getting up anyway, sweetie."

Gina grunted and pulled the pillow back over her face. I took the phone from her mother and said "Yeah?" Hey, don't start on me. That's not how I normally answer the phone, but you would be grumpy too, if you were woken up at the crack of dawn when you had serious jet lag. Okay, maybe not the very _crack_ of dawn, but at least the chasm, or perhaps the wide ditch of dawn.

"Suze?" Damn. Not Jesse. Then again, I'm not sure if I would want to be talking to him right then. I was not exactly at my best. Thank god whoever was on the other end couldn't see me. Hearing me was bad enough.

"Um, this is David." He sounded a little hesitant. At the time, I thought he was worried that I'd be mad about the clothes thing or his waking me up. I _was_ annoyed, and I told him as much.

"It's two forty-two." David informed me. "You should be up by now. It is healthy for teenagers, such as yourself, to get a normal, eight-hour sleep each night. Waking up at three in the afternoon is not normal."

"Hey," I told him. "That's not fair. It's still eleven something in Carmel. I haven't adjusted to the time change."

I got the sudden feeling that Doc was about to tell me that "eleven something" was still pathetically late (not that he'd use the word pathetic), so I headed him off at the pass.

"Why are you calling?"

David's voice became even more unsure than when he first told me it was him. "Well, um, actually…"

With a sinking feeling, I realized that whatever he was going to say probably had to do with the paranormal. Wonderful.

"I-I know you don't like to talk about…ghosts" (he whispered this last word, as though his quietness could induce similar calmness in me) "b-but… I think there was one in our house last night."

"Not possible," I said automatically. "He doesn't live there anymore."

"I don't think it's the same ghost as…you know, the one that haunts your bedroom." My stepbrother had actually managed to interpret my mass of fragments and unreferenced pronouns correctly. "He's always been pretty peaceful."

"And this ghost hasn't?" I asked skeptically.

Doc's awkwardness, if anything, increased. "Well…no." He sighed. "Have you talked to mom or dad recently?"

"You mean since I left?" I asked. "Sure. I called when I got here to let them know my plane hadn't sunk. Like there's an ocean between California and New York."

"And that was the last time you spoke to them?"

I affirmed.

"Then you wouldn't know."

"What wouldn't I know? Cut the cryptic crap and spit it out, David." That was nice. Really illustrated me at my best. "I'm sorry Dave. It's just…I went on vacation to get away from ghosts and I've already had to deal with one." That would be Dylan. Not that Damien and I had actually helped him yet. We were going to meet up later.

"Last night," David began his story. Finally. "I was up late―"

"How late?" I inquired.

"Maybe midnight." That is so not late. Well, maybe for an eighth grade it is. "I was working on a project for my stats class. You know, I have to make a poster with the data I got last week."

"Yes, David. I know." I had to cut him off; otherwise he would have gone on all night about his project. I mean, hearing about it once was enough. Five or six times was major overkill.

"Sorry," he apologized, getting back on track. "Well, I heard these weird noises." Wait a minute, now I was hearing weird noises too. Was he just trying to scare me? "I thought they were coming from the living room, but I wasn't sure." Not, they weren't in my right ear, they were in the left, the one away from the phone. "It was fairly spooky, actually." Talk about spooky. This low rumbling sounded like someone dying. "Especially as our house is haunted." I didn't see any ghosts that could be causing it. "In the interest of scientific observation, I went to go see what it was." This was really creeping me out. "I was walking down the stairs, when suddenly—"

I didn't hear what David said next because at that moment, I heard a huge rasp and I screamed.

"Suze?"

Breathing rapidly, I tried to locate the source of the noise. I saw the covers on Gina's bed rise and fall gently, and realized that she had been snoring.

"Sorry. Go on." That was embarrassing.

"Well, when I got to the landing, you know, between floors, the bookcase started to wobble. And before I could move, it fell on me."

"What?" I ejected. "The bookcase fell on you?"

"Yes," David affirmed. "An hour later, I was in the hospital with two broken ribs and a sprained ankle."

"Why didn't someone call me?"

"Well, it was only last night," Doc explained. "Mom and Dad probably didn't want to wake you." That was a laugh. Gina and I had been up until 4 am, talking about our evenings and catching up on old gossip.

"But the reason that I'm calling," my stepbrother changed the subject smoothly "Is that it wasn't an accident. It couldn't have been. What happened is physically impossible."

"Are you sure?" This conversation was so not one that I wanted to be having. "I mean, maybe the bookcase was just unstable or something." I desperately wanted what happened to be an accident. Then, I wouldn't have to get involved.

"No, I know for a fact that the bookcase was stable. And if it fell, it would have fallen backwards, not forwards. Someone pushed it."

"And you're sure no one was there?" I was grasping at straws here. "It was fairly late, you were probably tired."

"No one was there." Dave repeated.

I sighed. "Fine, I'll look into it. Try to stay out of trouble while I'm away, will you?"

"Okay, bye Suze."

"Bye." I waited for Doc to hang up. He was waiting for me. The air was heavy with tension, or so it seemed to me.

"David, I-I—"

"It's okay, Suze. You don't have to say it just because I'm in the hospital." How had he known what I was trying to say? How had he known how hard it was for me?

I don't even know why it was so hard for me. I said "I love you" to my mom all the time.

True, I'd been saying it to her since I was a baby, so maybe she wasn't the best person to compare. But I could say it to Jesse too, and I met him later than David.

* * *

I remember the first time I told Jesse I loved him; he already knew it, of course, but this was the first time I had spoken it out loud. It was about a month after he became alive again, mid-January. We hadn't made up after our latest quarrel. I had woken up late that day, rolled out of bed, and into the first clean clothes I could find. Makeup: concealer, blush, I'd do lip gloss in the car, no time for eyes.

Dopey: Get your ass down here!

Andy: Language, Brad.

Sleepy: Why're you yelling? Some of us are trying to sleep.

Me: Coming!

Mom: Susie, honey, hurry up.

David: Here, I saved you some toast.

Me: Where's my math homework?

Dopey: Did you do it?

Andy: On the coffee table

Me: Thanks

Dopey: Can we go now?

Sleepy: Will you be quiet?

Mom: Bye kids.

Andy: Have fun at school.

Dopey: Where're the keys?

Me: I gave them to you.

Dopey: I don't have them

Sleepy: Shut up!

David: Keys are on the hook.

Dopey: Nuh uh.

David: Catch

Dopey: Ow.

Me: Grab the keys and let's go.

Dopey: It's your fault we're late.

Me: Fuck off.

Andy: Language.

Me: Fine. Go masturbate in a corner, then.

Mom: Susie!

Me: What?

David: Come on.

Dopey: We're getting cold out here.

Andy: No, Max.

Mom: Maybe he has to—

Dopey: Get in.

Me: Why do you get to drive?

Dopey: Because.

David: Buckle up.

Me: For the love of god.

The ride to the mission was relatively uneventful. As was the rest of my day, aside from completely sucking. I hadn't had time to organize my stuff, so I couldn't turn in a lot of my homework. Plus, I was really self conscious about how I looked. I was wearing jeans and some shirt that I dug up from the bottom of my closet. It was orange, a color that looks awful on me. I don't think my socks were matching.

My hair was even worse. It was scary. I mean, yes, I had stopped straightening it all of the time, but that morning I hadn't even had time to finish brushing it. Curly hair, especially mine, gets these massive tangles that have to be undone really slowly, with a comb.

So I think I've made my point that by the end of school that day, I was completely stressed, depressed, and generally not feeling too great. That was why, when I saw Jesse standing in the parking lot outside of the mission after school, instead of my heart giving a happy lurch, it sunk to somewhere around my shins. Which, by the way, I had not been able to shave that morning.

I was happy to see him, I really was, but that feeling was drowned out with the urge to get home, into the shower, and to wash away all the memories of that crappy, crappy day. The fact that Jesse looked totally dreamy (and I was not the only one who could attest to this. Half girls coming out of the mission were staring at him.) made me feel even worse about myself. He must have noticed my discontent, since he seemed suddenly nervous.

"Um, would you like to go for a walk, Susannah?" I nodded, and prepared myself for the routine "I'm sorry" speech; Jesse and I argued a lot. Cee Cee told me once that we were the most argumentative couple she ever met. Adam said that we reminded him of his grandparents.

"Well, I just want to apologize for anything I did that might have insulted your dignity. A lot of what I said was inappropriate." Notice how Jesse never actually admits that he's wrong.

"I'm sorry too. I got really worked up; I overreacted." Notice how I don't either.

Okay, so I kind of made up that part of the memory. That's because I don't even remember what we were arguing about. As I mentioned before, we do it a lot. Argue, that is. But I most definitely remember what came next.

"I—I was very worried, _querida_. I thought you might still be mad at me." Blah, blah, blah, yada, yada, yada. Hey, just because I'm in love with the guy doesn't mean I hang on to his every word. "And I don't want you to be mad at me, because…because…" That's it. Just say it. Say it, Jesse, I mentally coaxed him.

"Because I need you, I can't live without you. You're the reason that I'm living." Getting warmer… "and when we fight, it's all I can think about. I'm not even sure if I should be thinking about you this much, it's not proper," Christ. "but I just can't help it." As Jesse got hotter and hotter, his words sounded almost feverish. "I feel sinful, but when I'm around you I just don't care because you light something up inside me and—" Whoa. Run-on sentence much? "and it won't go out, which I know because I've tried to stop it but now I just want it to engulf me because" Say it. _Say it. _"because it feels right. _We_ feel right."

Close enough. I put my hands on the sides of his face. "I love you, too, Jesse."

I could see him trying to process what we'd both said. His fingers curled gently around mine, but I don't think he noticed. He muttered something in Spanish, then looked questioningly into my eyes. I saw his mouth open and close several times before he finally managed to put his thoughts into words. "I love you?" he sounded unsure, but his voice became stronger as he repeated himself. "I love you. I love you, Susannah. I love you." He leaned forward a few centimeters and kissed me. Needless to say, I kissed back.

**A/N: Sorry it took me so long to update, but I had major writer's block in the middle and Jessie swore she'd kill me if I didn't put in some fluff, so I couldn't just post what I had. I hope you all like it, and I didn't confuse you _too_ much by switching to play mode in the middle.**

**Speaking (well, writing) about JESSiENESS, I'm doing a tagteam with her which should be up sometime soon. We're thinking of calling it "Tupperware" but if you have a better name we can use, tell us. Check her profile!**

**Now, you know what I'm going to say. Do I even need to bother? REVIEW! NOW! I COMMAND YOU! STOP LAUGHING! I'M NOT THAT SHORT! OKAY, I AM! BUT I CAN STILL BE COMMANDING! SORT OF! I'M GOING TO STOP NOW! REVIEW!**


	6. The chapter that comes before chapter 7

**A/N: Okay, I am SO sorry for not updating sooner. I totally deserve to die. I vote we all take me out back and shoot me. Except then I would probably update even slower. So I guess you're stuck with me. :).**

**Disclaimer: Dude, if you think I own this, you seriously need to get your brain checked. There could be a tumor or something in there. Or maybe you just hit it on that huge rock over there→.**

Chapter 6

After hanging up the phone on David, I sat for a few seconds and contemplated what I should do. I was alarmed that someone, especially a dead someone, would want to harm my brother. He had no enemies (except the occasional school bully); Doc is the sweetest kid ever.

After glancing at Gina to make sure that she was still asleep, I dialed the Carmel area code and then seven digits that had become very familiar to me.

"Hello?" a polite voice answered.

"Hey, Jesse." Just hearing his voice made me suddenly ecstatic. I had to concentrate to keep the giggles down.

"Susannah. Is everything all right? Do you need help with something?" He always assumes that something's up. Of course, knowing me, something usually is.

"Not per say." I hate asking people for help. It's so humiliating. "I just need you to look into something for me."

"Of course," Jesse answered, before even knowing what I was going to ask. I thought about asking for something totally outrageous, like that he find out what percentage of hotels with room service also sell condoms, but my business was serious. I could screw with Jesse's mind later.

"I was talking to Doc just now, and he says that he was attacked. By a ghost." I wasn't sure what Jesse could do about this, but seeing as I was on an opposite side of the country, he was better placed to act then me.

Jesse said something in Spanish, then asked me to continue. I related everything that David had told me, finishing with "―and I'm worried, because I don't know why someone would try to kill him, and I don't know if they're going to try again." Jesse was silent for quite a while. I had no idea what he was thinking.

"Odd. Very odd. Something is wrong here, _querida_." I resisted the urge to say "Duh." He continued. "Just an hour or so ago, I received a visit from your friend…" he paused. "Cee Cee," he said with distaste. Apparently, he didn't like her nickname any more than mine.

"You talked to Cee Cee? Why?" I was totally surprised. I mean, not that I didn't want him talking to her, it's just, they barely knew each other.

So then Jesse went and told me the whole bloody story. I mean, I was interested in why she was talking to him, but did I really need to know all the tiny details?

Basically, what happened was this: Jesse woke up Saturday mourning and ate a bowl of cereal. Cheerios, I think he said. He then ran some water and washed the dishes. As he was drying off his hands and contemplating which subject he should study, (studying on a Saturday mourning. Wonder what that's like.) he heard a knock on the door to his apartment. "Brisk and businesslike" is how he described it to me.

"Hello?" He said, opening the door.

"Hi," answered Cee Cee, looking slightly nervous but set. "May I come in?"

Jesse of course let her inside, apologizing profusely about the mess—which in his language means a couple of books on the table and a jacket on the sofa—and offered her a drink, which Cee politely declined.

"This visit is purely business," Cee justified her refusal with. "Well, sort of."

When Jesse asked her to elaborate, the albino girl told him that she had woken up early that morning to finish some work for her internship at _The Carmel Pinecone_, our local newspaper, but her computer died. She was re-booting it when, "perfectly spontaneously" (her words, not mine or Jesse's) a lamp was lifted off the ground and smashed over her head.

"And the reason I'm telling you this," Cee Cee informed Jesse not an hour later (the girl recovers as fast as me when she has a story to investigate) "is because I know you used to be a ghost, so I was hoping you tell me what happened, or at least offer some sort of explanation."

Jesse was stunned for several seconds. "Did Susannah tell you that?" he managed finally.

"She confirmed it," Cee Cee told him, "but I figured it out on my own. The shenanigan at Brad's party was sort of a give-away."

Jesse shook his head to clear the headache he was starting to get. It didn't work. "I have no idea why a ghost would want to hurt you, but I'll look into it. Thank you for telling me."

"Thanks for listening." And with that, Cee Cee stood up and briskly left his apartament.

This is a page break-

"So, within twelve hours, both David and Cee Cee get attacked by ghosts?" I said, more to myself than to Jesse. "That can't be a coincidence."

"…_Querida_," Jesse said hesitantly, "Have you gotten into any… trouble with ghosts lately?"

"No," I replied, perplexed "Why would you thi—Ooooh. You think I pissed off some ghost who's taking it out on people I care about. That would make sense, except I haven't met any violent ghosts since the one Paul mediated last February."

"Well, I will ask him and Father Dominic if they know anything about it," Jesse told me. "In the meantime, look after yourself" (roll eyes) "I love you."

"Love you too Jesse."

**A/N: Hey, It's me again! Right…so, if you don't want me to update even slower, I suggest you push that nice attractive looking button over there and tell me what you think. All reviews welcome. Even flames, if they're good flames (please no: "you're stupid cuz you're so stupid cuz you suck, so stop being so stupid and go suck something." If you're going to insult me, at least make it good.)**


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